


rosé

by wordlocker



Category: K-pop, VIXX
Genre: Disability, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-30
Updated: 2016-08-30
Packaged: 2018-08-12 00:32:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7913461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wordlocker/pseuds/wordlocker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>jaehwan shall always be the first color in hongbin’s monochromatic world</p>
            </blockquote>





	rosé

Hongbin has been getting on by just fine for the past twenty three years of his life. His parents were somewhat puzzled when he announced that he was getting into photography, but his aunt bought him his first real camera, and he hadn’t looked back ever since.

 

He took a class briefly in college, but soon got tired of the discussions and reviews, things he couldn’t possibly fully understand – color spectrums and shades of blue. He decided he didn’t really need anybody approving his photos, only the soft bloom of fondness spreading in his chest whenever he gets a good shot.

 

Hakyeon was the only person who asked him the question: “Why are all your pictures black and white?”

 

“It’s how I see the world.”

 

His best friend (then only an acquaintance) figured out soon enough that his words were literal.

 

 

.

 

 

When he was four, Hongbin’s parents brought him to a specialist because although he seemed to understand and speak well, he just couldn’t grasp the concept of blue and red or green and yellow. She tested him, and his developmental scores were average at the worst, and she referred them to the ophthalmologist instead.

 

His mother clutched him tightly as they were told that he was color blind.

 

Hongbin didn’t really understand, then, how seeing things in black and white and grey was so bad. 

 

He can’t say he can understand that now, either.

 

 

.

 

 

Hakyeon helps him label his clothes so he doesn’t actually end up wearing horrendously clashing colors out on the street. Underneath the name of the colors, they use dots to code how the pairing should go. A t-shirt with two dots goes with a pair of pants with two dots and shoes with two dots. 

 

It says a lot about Hongbin’s faith in Hakyeon that he’s putting his entire trust in his best friend’s color coordination.

 

He hasn’t gotten any complaints about him being an eyesore yet, so he counts that as something.

 

He asked his mother once if he ever had a favorite color growing up, and she was stumped for a couple of minutes. Then she smiled at him, sweet and dimpled, and said his favorite blanket and stuffed toys were always white.

 

It’s of no significance to Hongbin, just a curiosity, until the day his world suddenly bursts with an entirely new shade.

 

 

.

 

 

He’s taking a break from studying, important dates and historical figures still swimming behind his eyelids as he makes his way across the student housing ground, determined to get a few pictures for his devastatingly long-abandoned portfolio.

 

Somebody is running past him, chasing after a small puppy. Hongbin is too busy clutching at his expensive camera in case he gets ran over to register much aside from a shrill yelling ( _yah, come back here, Gureumie!_ ) and a flash of _something_ bright – separate from his typical grey, and gone within a blink of the eyes.

 

He settles down to work out his shots on a rickety bench, considering going off campus to set up better ones, and looks up just to be bowled over by what he sees. The guy is – as best as Hongbin can describe – shrouded in a color that he has definitely never seen before. The shade is brilliant and beautiful that it steals his breath away, but he manages to pick up his camera and points.

 

He’s afraid that once he blinks it’ll be gone, but it’s still there through his viewfinder, the guy smiling and talking to the puppy he’s cradling in his hands as Hongbin clicks the button. Before he knows it he’s taken a few dozens, noticing halfway through how attractive the guy really is, even underneath the filter of shade. Hongbin looks around after a while, and is surprised to see little pops of the same color all around him, his heart pounding in his chest.

 

When he looks back up to the other bench, the guy is gone. A little boy dashes by his legs and his sneakers are colored, and Hongbin finds himself entranced for hours, just watching splashes of this new addition in his life.

 

 

.

 

 

He doesn’t tell Hakyeon about it, no matter how hard his best friend interrogates him for the seemingly permanent smile on his face.

 

“You look like a shark. Stop it,” Hakyeon says, scowling at him from behind the counter. 

 

Hongbin chucks his balled up straw wrapper at Hakyeon’s face and hits his nose. It makes him smile even wider and Hakyeon is just about to cuff him against the side of his head when the front door of the café chimes. Saved by the bell.

 

Hakyeon’s lips part to greet the customer but his face brightens more than usual when he sees who it is. “Oh, hey! How did it go?”

 

“Ugh,” the person groans from behind Hongbin. “That little puffball is a handful! I’m gonna demand more money from my brother when he gets back.”

 

Hakyeon chuckles. “Nobody asked you to bring him here to the campus. You know he’s always going to outsmart you and slink away from your stupid leash-less hands.”

 

Hongbin can practically hear the pout from where he’s sitting. “I can’t leave him alone at home. He inherited that whole puppy dog eyes thing from me. Damn these Lee family genes!”

 

“You’re not even his real owner!” Hakyeon snorts.

 

“So? We still share the same gene pool!”

 

Hongbin turns and his heart stutters to a halt for a split second before speeding up, his breath escaping in a shocked gasp. The guy from the courtyard is looking at him, stark against the black and white and grey of everything surrounding them.

 

“Hongbin, this is Jaehwan,” Hakyeon says, introducing them. 

 

Jaehwan smiles at him, waving cheerfully. “Hello. You’re the photographer.”

 

“Photographer?” Hongbin looks to Hakyeon only to get a shrug.

 

“I saw you taking pictures of me the other day.”

 

“Oh,” Hongbin startles, his face heating up. “Uh, I’m sorry—”

 

“It’s okay,” Jaehwan cuts him off with a wave of his hand. “I don’t really mind. Unless you’re, like, a private investigator or something.”

 

“Um,” Hongbin says, blinking rapidly. “I’m not.”

 

Jaehwan nods, seemingly satisfied as he slips onto the stool next to Hongbin. “Ah, yes. Then I don’t mind. I mean, I assumed you were taking pictures of me. Maybe you were taking pictures of Gureum. He’s such a cute dog. Anyway, nice to meet you.”

 

Hongbin’s head is spinning, and he doesn’t think it’s because of Jaehwan’s rapid talking entirely.

 

“Nice to meet you, too.”

 

 

.

 

 

Jaehwan uses too much emojis when he texts. Sometimes there’s only emojis and Hongbin has to struggle to understand what he’s trying to say, grey tiny faces and little animals making up the riddles he has to solve. He finds that he doesn’t really mind it, though. 

 

He knows Jaehwan will find out about his blindness sometime, but he doesn’t plan on making a big reveal out of it. So when Jaehwan asks him about the photos he took of him and Gureum in the courtyard all those weeks ago, Hongbin readily shows them to him.

 

Jaehwan clicks through the files silently, only humming here and there, grinning at the cute expressions his brother’s puppy made as he played with it. “I like them,” he says when he’s gone through the whole folder. “They’re really nice.”

 

“Thank you,” Hongbin says, fighting the blush he can feel growing on his face. The effect Jaehwan has on him is simply nerve-wracking and Hongbin is helpless against it.

 

Jaehwan tilts his head after taking a sip of his drink. “Why aren’t you doing this as a career again?”

 

This is it, Hongbin thinks. “Because I can only take pictures in black and white.”

 

“That’s a thing, though, right?” Jaehwan frowns in thought. “A style choice of some sort?”

 

“Ah,” Hongbin coughs into his fist, his eyes wavering. “But you kinda need to be able to tell colors apart if you want to be a professional photographer, Jaehwan. And I’m – well, I’m color blind.”

 

It feels like an aeon before Jaehwan responds with a soft, “Oh.”

 

He doesn’t look sad or shocked or weirded out, so Hongbin continues. “Yeah. I only see in black and white, and well – grey. Until,” he pauses, swallowing around the growing lump in his throat. “Until I first saw you, in the park. You – you’re the first color I ever saw in my life.”

 

It takes even longer for Jaehwan to respond this time, and when he does it’s small and hesitant. “I see.”

 

“You brought a color with you,” Hongbin goes on, eyes falling onto the space between them at the table. “After I saw you, I started seeing the same one color that I see you in.”

 

The corner of Jaehwan’s lips twitch. “So what color am I?”

 

Hongbin frowns, looking around them to find something that matches the hue that surrounds Jaehwan. He points to the flower on the next table, a rose. “That color.”

 

“Red,” Jaehwan mutters softly, an equally soft grin on his lips. “It’s my favorite color.”

 

Their eyes meet and Hongbin’s heart skitters in his chest and he thinks all the colors in the world don’t matter if he can just have this one single shade in his life.

 

 

.

 

 

Jaehwan kisses Hongbin at the end of their second date. It’s simple and chaste, and yet Hongbin can feel every shred of his being trembling from it. They’re standing in front of Jaehwan’s dorm building, hands clasped together between them.

 

Jaehwan is a brilliant red even in the near dark, and Hongbin can’t possibly look away.

 

He regards Hongbin from beneath his lashes, a shy smile on his mouth. “I think – I think I really like you, Hongbin.”

 

If Hongbin is listening close enough, he can sense the underlying sorrow in that sweet tone, but he’s completely lost in the look in Jaehwan’s eyes, drowning underneath the depth of them. 

 

“I like you a lot, too,” he replies, his voice a little shaky.

 

They exchange smiles – bright and happy – and make promises to meet again tomorrow. Hongbin walks back home with the same smile still etched on his face, tracing a finger over the clumps of flowers right by the walkway, their scarlet petals fluttering against his skin.

 

 

.

 

 

Jaehwan invites Hongbin to his musical practice and that’s when he first introduces Wonshik. They’re sitting huddled together backstage when Hongbin approaches, knees touching, voices kept low. 

 

Jaehwan looks up when Hongbin greets him and immediately breaks into a grin. “Hongbin, this is my best friend and roommate, Wonshik.”

 

Wonshik’s smile is pleasant enough, but there’s a remnant of worry between his brows, perhaps from their private conversation. Hongbin returns the smile easily. “Hey, nice to meet you.”

 

“Are you a musical actor, too?”

 

Both Jaehwan and Wonshik burst out laughing at that. “Oh god, no,” Wonshik says, his shoulders finally loosened. “Can’t act to save my life. Don’t really have the voice, either. I’m a composition major.”

 

The conversation flows smoothly after that, Wonshik inviting Hongbin to sit with him in the audience as they watch Jaehwan doing his magic. He looks amazing up on stage, shining against the grey backdrop, his voice sending shivers up Hongbin’s spine, tugging gently on his heart strings.

 

 

.

 

 

Jaehwan asks permission to ask about his condition, and Hongbin takes his hand in his, squeezing it as he says yes.

 

“Is there anything we can do about it – you know, medically?” Jaehwan asks timidly. 

 

“You mean like corneal transplants?” Hongbin smiles, shaking his head. “Unfortunately, it’s a genetic disorder. No cure.”

 

“Oh,” says Jaehwan, a devastated slump in his posture. “I see.”

 

“Why?” Hongbin asks, stroking the back of his hand with a thumb.

 

Jaehwan smiles at him, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “Just wondering,” he says, tugging on Hongbin’s fingers. “I’m sorry.”

 

Hongbin shrugs. “It’s alright. I adapted. I may never know if Hakyeon decides to prank me one day and switch the labels on my clothes so I’d look horrible, but it’s not too bad.”

 

Jaehwan laughs, a gorgeous sound that makes Hongbin’s breath catch. “Thanks for giving me an idea for that,” he says, yelping when Hongbin pinches his thigh. “But you’ll never look horrible even if all your clothes are terribly matched.”

 

Hongbin ducks his head to hide the fact that he’s blushing but the cooing noises Jaehwan makes tells him that he’s fooling no one.

 

 

.

 

 

It hits him the first time he wakes up to the sight of Jaehwan’s sleeping face.

 

Hongbin’s experienced a lot of firsts with Jaehwan. It makes sense that the first time he wishes he doesn’t have his disability is when he realizes that he’s in love with Jaehwan.

 

Hongbin had never minded not knowing what color Lego he was playing with as a kid, never minded not sharing the same excitement as his kindergarten classmates the day they learned how to mix colors and what shades came out of it (although he memorized the names, just in case), never minded not being able to immerse himself in a book when the authors use colors to describe something.

 

Right now, at this moment, he wishes he’s able to see the flecks of colors in Jaehwan’s doe eyes, the exact shade his cheeks turn when Hongbin touches him soft and sweet, the tint of his thick hair as Hongbin runs his fingers through.

 

But above everything, he thinks as he strokes lightly across Jaehwan’s rosy cheekbone, he’s just grateful for the tightness in his chest, the weight of Jaehwan’s leg across his thigh, and the warm breath against his neck as Jaehwan burrows closer in his sleep.

 

 

.

 

 

Four days before opening day of his musical, Jaehwan collapses into Wonshik’s arms. 

 

It happens all too quickly, Hongbin rooted on the spot as Wonshik cradles his boyfriend, slightly alarmed but not panicking as he instructs Hongbin to help him get Jaehwan to his car. Wonshik carries him all the way to the parking lot, tells Hongbin to get in, and drives them to the hospital.

 

It’s only when Wonshik is calmly filling out the form for Jaehwan’s admission in the emergency bay that Hongbin figures out that he’s prepared for this – that Jaehwan crumpling in the middle of a conversation is something he has been anticipating.

 

Hongbin wants to know how often this happens, but he waits in the uncomfortable plastic seat instead, knees bouncing in anxiety. Wonshik stays quiet, leaving Hongbin alone in the waiting area as he walks out to make a call to Jaehwan’s parents.

 

When Hongbin walks through the curtain they’ve put Jaehwan behind as soon as the doctor allows, the first thing he sees is Jaehwan’s soft smile. He looks frail and small, but he’s smiling for Hongbin, and it crushes Hongbin’s heart in one fell swoop. 

 

“Hey,” Jaehwan croaks, reaching out for his hand. 

 

Hongbin grabs it in his, managing a watery smile in response. “How do you feel?”

 

Jaehwan lets him hold his hand, blinking up slowly at him. “I’m fine. I’m sorry. Sorry I didn’t tell you.”

 

Hongbin shakes his head, forced to bite the inside of his cheek to keep the tears from falling. “Hey, it’s okay. I’m not – you didn’t do anything wrong.”

 

“I’m sorry,” Jaehwan repeats, raising Hongbin’s hand to his lips with his shaky one and kissing his knuckles. “I don’t have much time left.”

 

Hongbin swallows down a sob, but a tear breaks through, dribbling down his cheek before he can wipe it away.

 

“But I want to spend it with you,” Jaehwan breathes, looking up at him imploringly. It’s enough to make Hongbin choke on his next breath. “Can I? Will you stay with me?”

 

“Of course,” Hongbin says brokenly, gathering Jaehwan against his chest and kissing the top of his head over and over. “Of course I will.”

 

 

.

 

 

Hongbin has been to enough hospitals in his lifetime when he was a boy and his parents were still searching for answers. Growing up, he never really noticed how uniform the places really were. It takes him maneuvering easily through bright hallways on the third day he’s visiting Jaehwan for him to realize it.

 

It breaks his heart every single time he walks in to see Jaehwan lying on the bed, like he can break any second from the simplest touch, but he reels it in just to keep that beautiful smile on his boyfriend’s handsome face.

 

Jaehwan wants Hongbin to lay with him today, and the nurse that comes by to check his line indulges them with a wan smile. Hongbin strokes Jaehwan’s hair slowly, wanting to drag the moment out for as long as he can, until Jaehwan breaks the silence.

 

“I’m a registered organ donor, you know?”

 

Hongbin’s fingers freeze. “Jaehwan—”

 

“I really wanted to give you something before – before I go. I want you to be happy, Bin-ah.”

 

“Jaehwan,” Hongbin whispers, cupping Jaehwan’s chin and tilting his face up. “I’m grateful every day for you. Every single day, since the one I first saw you. You’ve made me so happy. I’m happy.”

 

“Yeah, well,” Jaehwan smiles, ducking his head again. “I want you to remember me when I’m gone, too. It’s selfish, I know—”

 

“No, it’s not,” Hongbin intercepts, pressing a kiss to his temple. “And I will, Jaehwan. I’ll remember you always.”

 

Jaehwan rests his head on Hongbin’s chest and goes silent, leaving Hongbin to grapple with the overwhelming pain clenching around his core, fighting back tears that he doesn’t want Jaehwan to see.

 

 

.

 

 

Hongbin breaks down in Hakyeon’s embrace late in the night, crumpling right there on the café floor sobbing while Hakyeon rubs his back. It’s past closing time, and not a soul is around so Hongbin allows himself to be loud, wracking sobs shaking his whole frame.

 

“It’s not supposed to be this painful, hyung,” he cries brokenly as Hakyeon makes soothing noises into his hair. “It’s only been over two months. It shouldn’t feel like this.”

 

“Hongbin,” Hakyeon murmurs softly, holding him close. “I know it hurts right now, but it’ll pass.”

 

Hongbin looks up into Hakyeon’s face, his vision blurry with tears. “I don’t want to lose him, hyung. I – oh my god, I love him so much already. How can I go back to before when I love him this much?”

 

Hakyeon remains quiet after that, only petting him lightly and letting him wallow in grief.

 

 

.

 

 

Jaehwan leaves him on the one hundred and third day they met.

 

There will be no more beautiful smiles, no wonderful laugh, no gorgeous bright eyes. Hongbin’s whole world feels shaken, silently, and it takes him days to be able to stand on his own two legs and not wobble.

 

On the thirteenth day Hongbin wakes up and realizes the once red mug Jaehwan liked to use is grey again.

 

Everything back to how it’s supposed to be. Only not.

 

Hongbin blinks at the black and white and grey around him, and climbs back under the covers. At least when he closes his eyes the world still looks the same.

 

 

.

 

 

The door creaks when Hongbin pulls it open. He stares at the row of clothes hanging in front of him, trying to decide what color (how many dots) he should wear to match his current emotion before realizing that he has absolutely no idea.

 

Would green be appropriate to grief in? Would it be okay to wear yellow on a gloomy day?

 

He recalls how his parents once told him that he needed to dress in black for a sad occasion and starts to flip through the labels. He doesn’t think he’ll ever understand, much as he still doesn’t understand when his kindergarten teacher patiently taught that blue and red make purple, and white and red make—

 

He sees it as soon as the thought crosses his mind.

 

The label says PINK in Hakyeon’s neat loopy script. And the sweater seems to glow among the monochrome, close to how Jaehwan looked in Hongbin’s eyes, but not quite.

 

Hongbin’s breath leaves him in a painful rush, his heart pounding, as he realizes that Jaehwan is gone, but he had left a tiny bit of himself in Hongbin’s life after all.

 

He pulls the sweater out and softly smiles.


End file.
